


I'm so pissed off, I could...

by sarcastissimo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Dean Winchester, Arguing, Dean Winchester Actually Deals With Feelings, Dean Winchester Needs to Chill, First Kiss, M/M, Oblivious Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sarcastic Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:41:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28364082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcastissimo/pseuds/sarcastissimo
Summary: Dean was usually pretty good at controlling his emotions. Or, at least, channeling them into something useful, like hunting monsters or saving the world. But when it came to Cas, there was one emotion in particular he just couldn’t keep in check – anger.He had no idea why – he really liked Cas, he considered him his best friend. But almost everything Cas did that didn’t sit right with Dean would send the hunter over the edge and into the pissed-off rant about whatever Cas just did or didn’t do.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 3
Kudos: 106





	I'm so pissed off, I could...

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!  
> This is my first Destiel work - like most these days, I, too, was inspired by the Destiel Month of 2020 (previously known as November) and all the emotions it woke up in me - the good and the bad.  
> Just as Castiel saved Dean, and the brothers saved the world, the fanfiction will save spn. I love you all and reading all your wonderful works gives me life. This is just something that I had in me and had to put on paper. Sorry for any writing mistakes, English is not my first language! Anyway, enjoy and tell me what you think :)

* * *

Dean was usually pretty good at controlling his emotions. Or, at least, channeling them into something useful, like hunting monsters or saving the world. But when it came to Cas, there was one emotion in particular he just couldn’t keep in check – _anger_.

He had no idea why – he really liked Cas, he considered him his best friend. But almost everything Cas did that didn’t sit right with Dean would send the hunter over the edge and into the pissed-off rant about whatever Cas just did or didn’t do.

Cas didn’t seem very hurt by Dean’s reactions – most of the time he was confused, and sometimes even amused – which, naturally, pissed Dean off even more. Sam was, on the other hand, slowly losing his patience. He loved his brother, and he also knew him better than Dean knew himself – so he had a pretty good idea what was really going on. But, of course, Dean was completely oblivious and Sam knew that any attempt to intervene would just worsen the whole situation. So he kept his mouth shut and rolled his eyes at the two idiots arguing about nothing and everything.

* * *

It was a warm spring afternoon, the weather perfect for driving. And that’s exactly what they were doing – sitting in the Impala, driving… _somewhere_. Dean was sure there was a purpose to this trip, some small town in the middle of nowhere with a ghost problem that needed to be solved. But at the moment, he had no idea what the name of that town was, because his mind was completely focused on the heated discussion that he was very much a part of.

“Cas.” He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to compose himself before saying the same sentence he’s been repeating for the last 15 minutes. “For the 100th time. Kitchen appliances. Don’t. Have. _Feelings_!” He turned his head towards Cas. “And you _cannot_ go around attacking cooks at diners because you think their microwave is _screaming_! That’s just- That’s just nuts.”

 _And I’m nuts for even arguing about this._ In all his years, after all the weirdness they’ve been through, never once did Dean think he would have to explain to someone that _when appliances make a noise, that means they’re old and probably broken, not that they’re in pain._

“I didn’t attack him.” Cas was looking at him with a completely blank expression on his face, which annoyed Dean even more. “ _Unfortunately_.”

He muttered that under his breath, just loud enough for Dean to hear and groan in response. “Yeah, you didn’t attack him because _I_ held you back and dragged you out of that damn diner!”

Dean’s leg pushed down on the gas pedal, and the revving of the engine finally made Sam intervene.

“C’mon guys, stop arguing. Let’s just turn on some music, we have at least two more hours ahead of us.” He tipped his head to look at the speedometer and went pale. “And Dean, for the love of God, please slow down. You’re gonna kill us all.”

Dean sighed and slowed down slightly, fingers pale from tightly clutching the steering wheel.

It was such a stupid thing to get upset about, really. And he could blame his frustration on the lack of sleep, or on the fact that he didn’t get to finish his lunch because he had to stop Cas from burning some poor guy’s eyes out. But in all honesty, that wasn’t the main reason for his 0-to-100 reaction.

“We aren’t arguing.” Cas glanced at Sam, and then at Dean, finally setting his gaze on the clouds in the distance. “I’m simply explaining to Dean why I believe he is wrong.”

Sam rolled his eyes and put on his headphones, giving up. For once, he was happy he let Cas take the front seat, because now he could easily remove himself from this pointless discussion.

_Aand Dean’s about to explode in 3… 2… 1…_

“Are you _serious_ , dude!? You’re- I’m-” Dean’s right hand started flying around, trying to gesticulate what he couldn’t put to words. Meanwhile, Castiel just stared at the horizon in front of them, seemingly untouched by Dean’s rage.

_This guy. This fucking angel will be the death of me._

“One day, Cas, I won’t be there to stop you and you’ll do something stupid like that. And the guy you try to attack, that will not be just some lame cook. He will be a real bad guy. And your righteous reasons for attacking him won’t matter, crazy or not, because you’ll get hurt.”

And there it was – the reason for this whole argument. He was scared that Cas would get hurt.

_I can’t keep watching people around me get hurt and die. Not anymore._

Cas looked at Dean, still confused by Dean’s words, but this time there was more softness in his eyes.

“Dean, I’m an angel. They can’t hurt me that easily.”

Dean let out a frustrated sigh and ran the fingers through his hair. _That’s not the point! Jesus._ He decided that further discussion was pointless, although a mix of anger and helplessness was still burning through him.

“You’re killing me, man.”

“I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t want to hurt you.” There was such honesty in Castiel’s voice, that Dean knew he meant it without even looking at him.

_I’m still pissed at you._

He flexed his fingers around the steering wheel, gripping it as tight as he could. _So pissed._

 _I’m_ so _pissed off I could-_

_I could-_

Dean’s mind was short-circuiting, as it often does when overwhelmed with strong emotions, such as anger. It took him a few tries to properly finish the thought.

 _I’m so pissed off I could_ kiss you.

_Wait- What?_

Dean’s eyes went wide, first from shock at his own thought, and then from panic. He quickly looked over at Cas, as if to check if the angel, somehow, heard his thoughts. But Cas looked as peaceful as ever, quietly observing the scenery through the passenger side window.

Dean looked at the road, then at his hands that were starting to sweat, then at the road again.

_What the fuck. Did I just think._

_Was it a mistake? Yes. No. Maybe? I don’t know. Great, and now the Malcolm in the Middle theme song is stuck in my head._

_Fuck!_

He hit the steering wheel with his palm, accidentally pressing on the horn. The sudden, loud sound made both Cas and Sam jump in their seats, the latter quickly removing the headphones.

“Jesus! Dean, what’s going on?”

Dean couldn’t see himself at the moment, but he imagined his face was probably as red as it could get. He nervously rubbed his neck and coughed. “Uh, it’s all good, Sammy. Sorry. Hand slipped. Go back to sleep.”

Not completely convinced, but still tired, Sam leaned back in his seat and did just that.

Glancing to his right, Dean noticed Cas was still staring at him, his piercing blue eyes closely examining his face. “Are you okay, Dean?”

Dean nervously swallowed and fixed his eyes on the road in front of them.

“Yeah. Peachy.”

* * *

Dean wasn’t the one to have deep heart-to-hearts with himself. No introspection bullshit, thank you. Nothing really changed in his behavior, either, since that thought popped up in his mind during one of their arguments. Instead, he just became more aware. More aware of everything, especially of Cas. He started noticing the small things – how Cas rolls his shoulders to stretch them after a long drive, how he drags his fingers over the edge of his coffee cup when he’s lost in his thoughts, how he lets out a soft sigh and rubs his eyes every time they bicker. One morning, Dean found himself standing just outside the kitchen, watching Cas who was trying to figure out how to turn on the new kettle Sam bought. A confused expression on his face, brows furrowed, head slightly tilted to the side, Cas was closely examining the appliance.

A warm, tingling sensation appeared in Dean’s chest and he smiled.

_Cute._

His own thought caught him slightly off-guard once again, but this time he wasn’t as shocked.

Oh. _Oh._ So _that’s_ what the weird sensation in his chest was. Dean had felt it a few times before, but he always thought it was… heartburn. Or something like that. After all, Sam did warn him (on more than one occasion) he would ruin his health with all that junk food.

“Dean.” Cas’ voice brought Dean to reality, his cheeks only slightly blushing.

“Uh. Morning, Cas. Whatcha got there?”

Cas put his hands up in defeat, his eyes focused on the evil machine in front of him instead of on the hunter approaching him. “I give up. I have no idea how to turn this thing on.” He moved aside to let Dean stand in front of the kettle.

It took Dean merely seconds to notice the source of the problem, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Cas, buddy.” He pointed his finger at the empty wall socket. “You forgot to plug it in.”

Cas looked just slightly embarrassed. “Oh. Of course.” He looked up at Dean, small smile spreading on his face. “Thank you, Dean.”

“No problem, dumbass.”

_Cute dumbass._

* * *

With time, Dean got less and less weirded out by his not-so-platonic thoughts about Cas. The feelings weren’t new, Dean realized. They were always there, just… Undefined. Nameless. The ongoing process was mostly about embracing them, instead on shoving them in a mental box under the bed and ignoring their existence. Now that Dean adjusted, the Cas-related thoughts were flying through his head freely, appearing here and there throughout the day. They were his little secret. And he was doing great at keeping them to himself.

_Mostly._

Their arguments were a weak spot when it came to restraining his emotions. And there was always something to argue about – big things, small things, it didn’t matter. _Discussions_ , Cas called them, which made Dean roll his eyes every time. _Bickering like an old married couple_ , Sam would mumble under his breath before going away to find some peace and quiet.

These days, Dean’s short temper was triggered by almost anything, but he was especially sensitive to all kinds of life-threatening situations Cas always managed to get himself in. And Dean’s new-found awareness that there was something else hidden beneath his anger, something wanting to get out, didn’t help the situation at all. So he developed a technique that stopped him from pouring his heart out during their arguments – he started running away.

Not his finest act, Dean admitted to himself, but in his mind there was no other option. Every time he started heating up, losing control over his words and emotions, he would just turn around without a word and run away as fast as he could. Sometimes he would go for a ride, sometimes it was just a long walk – whatever was enough at the moment to make him calm down and regain his composure.

Although it wasn’t really an elegant solution, he had to admit it worked pretty well. That is, until one fatal Wednesday afternoon came knocking.

* * *

The brakes screeched as the Impala halted to a stop in front of the bunker. Dean jumped out of the car and ran inside. “Cas!” His voice echoed through the empty space. _Where is that damn angel?_ He half-ran down the hallway, head poking through the door of every room, looking for his friend. _His idiot friend._

Something moved inside the kitchen and he went in, looking around. “Cas?”

The angel was standing in the opposite corner of the room, seemingly having appeared out of nowhere. “Hello Dean.” His voice was steady, but cautious. One look at Dean’s face was enough to confirm his suspicions. The hunter was _furious_. “I didn’t expect you to be back so soon.”

If looks could kill, the one he just got from Dean would’ve surely made him drop dead.

“Yeah, Cas, well, there was a little _change of plans_. You know, because Sam called me this morning to tell me that _you_ ”, he pointed his finger at Cas, “were planning on doing this idiotic thing, so I had to come all the way back to reason with you.” The bitterness dripping from Dean’s voice burned like acid.

The angel squinted and tilted his head to the side. “You’re angry.”

“No, Cas, I’m _pissed._ ”

Cas knew very well what Dean was talking about but didn’t look very guilty. If anything, Dean’s accusation made him stand a little taller, a spark of defiance appearing in his eyes. “You don’t think I should go and do this alone.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“No shit, Sherlock! And you _knew_ I would be against it, so you waited ‘till I went away to bring up this _brilliant_ idea. That’s fucked up, Cas. That’s not what friends do.” Cas didn’t answer for a moment, instead taking a few steps forward, his eyes examining Dean from head to toe – Dean’s hand tangled in his hair, his chest rising and falling like he was running, his feet making him take small, nervous steps. He looked like a lion in a cage. A pissed off lion.

“Isn’t that what friends do, though? Sacrifice themselves for each other?” Dean stopped in his tracks and looked at Cas. _Is he for real?_ _“No!_ Friends don’t do that, not like this! And certainly not alone! I told you a million times, Cas, we don’t do shit alone!” He bit his lip to stop himself from saying anything else. _If you sacrifice yourself for me, that will do everything but save me._

“But isn’t that what you did? When you went to Hell to save Sam?”

Dean shook his head. “That was different. I didn’t have any other choice.”

“You didn’t have any other choice.” Cas repeated his words slowly, taking a moment to think about them. He then looked at the hunter with a look so intense, Dean could feel it burning through him. “That’s what you say to yourself. But that’s not completely true, isn’t it?” Cas’ lip curled upwards, forming a half-smile, like he just had a life-changing revelation. “You don’t think you’re important enough. You care so much about everyone else’s safety, but you treat yourself as something disposable.”

Dean stared at Cas, the angel’s words burning through him ever harder than his look. There was a deep truth hidden in those words, a truth that could only make Dean do one of the two things – let himself be completely vulnerable by speaking his own truth, or run away in order to protect himself from that vulnerability.

And Dean was a hunter. And if hunters let themselves be vulnerable, they die.

He leaned forward and gripped Cas’ collar. “Don’t you tell me what I think or don’t think. I’d do _anything_ to protect my family, and that has nothing to do with how I _see_ myself.” Ignoring the fact that he was close enough to feel Cas’ breath on his face, Dean released his grip on the angel and turned around, ready to storm out. He almost reached the door when he heard Cas’ quiet, half-sarcastic comment. “And of course, you’re walking away. Again. Like you always do when you know I’m right.”

And that was it. That was the last drop.

“God _dammit_ , Cas.”

Dean turned on his heel, hands clenched to fists on his sides. With a few quick steps, he closed the distance between him and the angel, who was now facing the wall. Dean’s right hand reached up, grabbing Cas’ shoulder and turning him around. In the same swift movement, Dean took another step forward, pushing Cas against the wall behind him.

Cas didn’t say a word, but his surprise at Dean’s reaction was obvious by the look on his face – lips slightly parted, like he was in the middle of taking a breath when interrupted, and eyes opened wide, the ice-cold blue trying to figure out what was going to happen next.

Dean’s left arm rose, hand still forming a fist, his eyes dark and jaw clenched. _He’s gonna hit me_ , Cas thought to himself. But, despite his warrior reflexes and angelic powers, Cas did nothing to stop him, instead bracing himself for impact, eyes fixed on Dean’s.

Dean’s fist flew forward – and landed on the wall, just a few inches from Cas’ face. Cas barely had a moment to steal a quick glance at the knuckles pressed against the concrete next to him, when Dean’s lips came crushing down on his own. And just like that, they were kissing.

The kiss was fierce, their lips trying to say everything their voices couldn’t. It was a delicate mix of desperation, anger and longing put to action. At the same time, it felt like they were kissing for the 1st and for the 100th time.

Finally, Dean broke the kiss, moving away just an inch, searching for Cas’ eyes. They were suddenly as dark as the bottom of the ocean. “I’m _so_ pissed at you.” He gritted his teeth, pressing their foreheads together.

“Yeah, I can see that.” Cas was slightly breathless, but a devilish smile appeared on his face. “I also do this when I’m really angry at someone. I just- “His sarcastic comment was cut short by Dean locking their lips once again.

He quickly decided that this was the best way of shutting Cas up he ever came up with.

Their lips moved against each other with force, but also emotion, the static electricity almost tangible in the air around them. Dean’s right arm, still pinning Cas against the wall, slowly moved, his hand now cupping Cas’ cheek. In return, Cas put his hand on Dean’s hip, pulling him even closer than he was before, their bodies now flush together.

* * *

When Sam returned to the bunker, the first thing he noticed was the Impala, parked in its usual place. _What the hell, did he teleport here?_ Sam shook his head while opening the door, making a mental memo to talk to Dean about his insanely fast driving.

He jogged down the stairs and headed towards the kitchen, clutching the bag of groceries to his chest. He noticed the light spilling through the open door. _Great. I bet that’s Dean, getting himself a beer. Now I’ll give him my piece of mind._

“Hey Dean, I didn’t know you would be- “As he turned the corner and entered the kitchen, Sam stopped in his tracks, the sentence left to hang in the air, waiting to be finished. The sight before him was like seeing Trump on fire. It was something he really, _really_ wanted to see, but at the same time didn’t believe he’d actually get to witness.

His brother and his best friend, an angel, were pressed together against the wall, making out.

“… back so soon.” He finished his sentence, the words merely a whisper, as to not interrupt the two men who were clearly too focused on each other at the moment to notice his presence.

Sam slowly backed out of the room, a smile forming on his face. The smile quickly turned into a grin, his mind momentarily blocking all the bad they had to deal with on a daily basis. Once he reached the library, he put down the groceries and fist-pumped, like an excited kid.

_Finally!_


End file.
